The Lights In His Darkness
by C. Geng
Summary: An assassin's past is a scarred one. It is a story of darkness, a story of hate, and a story of violence. But it is also a tale of retribution and salvation. And above all, it is about her. Talon Quinn One Shot.


_This is set up in old League of Legends canon. Takes place in sort of the older future, after all the crazy drama happens. Thought it would be a nice concept to write about!_

 _..._

Killing had always been a regular part of Talon's life.

Then again, it should have been expected from the way he was raised. From even his earliest memory, all Talon ever knew as something that was a constant in his life was the fact that he had to kill to survive. The grip of a cold steel blade had been more family to him than anyone else had ever been at first. With it, there was no room for compassion, no room for mercy. Such things did not exist in the Noxian alley ways and sewers.

Stealing and murder were the only things he had to offer as a youth.

Though he was a vagrant, Talon learned many things during his time there. Living as a high profile criminal had sharpened his mind in more ways than one. He learned to be watchful so he could avoid those who would stab him the back. He learned to be ruthless so he could put down his enemies without a moment of hesitation. And above all, he learned to trust no one so that he would only need to look at for himself. And for a while, Talon had always believed that he would be cursed to live this way forever. The languid Noxian underbelly had already become second nature to him. Death and violence were a normal sight to his tired eyes. It seemed that not a single day could have gone by without more fighting and assassinations that took the lives of dozens at a time. Whenever he recalled those times, Talon could still remember the gut-clenching stench of the bodies that floated on the putrid Noxian waters, the blood stains that decorated the Noxian alley walls, and the numerous others that he had cut down without a second glance.

Death was his family and stealing, his schooling.

Then, his fate changed course.

His meeting with the Noxian General was an untimely one, so much so that he allowed for his defeat to happen. It was the first time he had been on the receiving end of the blade. His destiny should have ended there. But instead, he was given an ultimatum. He would live and serve the general or die and fade away to the rotting dust of the moat.

The Blade's Shadow sighed as he recalled those memories on which so much of his history and his future hinged upon.

It seemed then that his pride would never heal, but when he looked back at the time he shared with his adopted family, he realized he was grateful for what they had given him. Though he would never admit it out loud, he knew words alone could not describe what he felt towards his adopted sisters. Their relationship was not one of normality, nor was it one of a regular family's closeness and intimacy, but they had always looked out for each other. Through the times at the Institute and times of difficult and treachery, they had always been there to support one another, despite their rougher exterior attitudes. Countless kills and blades had been fought taken together as a family and certainly, his future would have not been the same without the red haired assassin and the scaly seductress. It was the first time Talon had ever had others he could rely on, the first time he could be sure that he wouldn't wake up to a knife through his heart or a dagger through his gut. And for that, he had come to know the value of a sibling.

And the General, well, that was self-explanatory now wasn't it? General Du Couteau had given him everything he could have ever wanted, perhaps more than he deserved. He had re branded Talon as a person he was now and gave him a purpose to his life. From that, he had become a vandal living on the edge of death to a skilled warrior whose life held more meaning than ever before. And most of all, the adopted assassin had always silently appreciated the fact that the General had treated him like a son rather than the outcast he was. He had always been equal to his sisters, no more, no less. He was given the same missions, the same expectations and the same gratitude. Marcus Du Couteau had made him who he was today, from the very fibers of his being, to the blood that ran through his veins, to the blades he wielded in his hands.

And Talon regretted he had never had the chance to openly show the General his thanks.

The cloaked assassin shifted in his bed, gently moving the covers around. He glanced over to the small desk that stood beside his bed, eyes falling upon the blade which the General had given him so long ago. Its leather grip was worn from the years and years of usage. The letters "DC" marked on the side of the dagger was also fading, the once proud logo of the Du Couteau family slowly etched away by the passing of time. But despite all of its ailing flaws, Talon always kept its blade sharp and glistening, so that it would always be ready by his side. His time as an assassin may have been nearly finished, but he would not risk the danger of a dull blade.

But blades and assassination tactics were not all that the General had given to Talon. At least not directly.

It had been Marcus Du Couteau's disappearance that had sent Talon to the League of Legends to search for the whereabouts of his adopted father. He had never struck the Blade's Shadow as someone who would simply abandon his family without a trace. And his faith and loyalty to his mentor was still strong.

When he arrived at the League, he was ruthless, particularly towards the Demacian champions. Talon had fought his share of them before and knew what they were like. His previous encounters with a ranger by the name of Quinn had already well familiarized himself with most of the golden state's participants, but especially her. The previous conflicts in which both of their city states had been embroiled in had led to his capture by her and his eventual escape. Many of the other champions in the League had often seen them as harsh and vengeful rivals, both warriors on equal footing, matching one another blow for blow. But for him, Quinn was the perfect person for him to rival and taunt, for she was both beautiful and a fierce warrior, yet so easy for him to manipulate and tease.

Talon gazed down at the figure snuggled next to him. His ranger was slumbering peacefully against him beneath the sheets, enjoying the warmth of his body against her own. He shifted his body to get more comfortable, earning a mutter of disapproval from the scout as she was temporarily deprived of her coziness.

"Hey….stop that." She groaned unhappily.

He smirked at her, but rolled over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her soft violet hair beneath his chin. Quinn murmured something before pressing her face tightly against his chest and dozed off again. Talon sighed and placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

He was confident so many years ago that he wouldn't ever find someone to love. He might have had a relationship with Katarina and the General, but those were of family. It wasn't that he did not appreciate what head had with his adopted family, but rather this bond was not the same. This one ignited a burning flame in his stomach, and drew a sense of belonging in his heart. With her, he felt something he had felt, for once in his life, at ease.

He softly drew in the faint scent of floral plants on the strands of her purple hair as they tickled his nose.

The Blade's Shadow never truly believed in luck or destiny or any of the prophecy rubbish that so many others often regarded as truth. Talon preferred to do things with his own hands and blades, to have a firm grasp on the direction of his life. But even he could not have denied that fate had some part in his meeting of her.

At first, their relationship had been a fragile one. It was forged in secrecy, for at the time, tensions still ran high among their respective city-states. Furthermore, they were both paragons of their lands, Quinn being Demacia's Wings and Talon granted his infamous nickname for his deadly skill with the blade rivaled only be a numbered few. Should any have discovered their involvement with each other, there was no doubt that the consequence would have been a swift execution regardless of what city-state they belonged to.

But they both decided that the risk was worth ten times over what they had between them.

Talon smiled as he remembered warm nights in the scout's room, the look on her face when he silently slipped into her room unexpectedly to surprise her. He reminisced upon hours spent watching the sunset rise and fall with her, and how his ranger looked when she first visited him at the Du Couteau mansion. How she laughed as she joked with him or how her hair fell around her face when he wrapped his arms around her under the covers. In a strange way, she had filled a hole in him that he didn't even know he had in him. But he was glad for the change.

Slowly but surely, their fledgling relationship had blossomed into one of trust and intimacy; something Talon had never experienced before.

So he treasured it like he had never before. Though his pride would not allow him to admit it to anyone, his once small ember of the scout had burst into a large flame in his heart. For him, there was nothing more important in this world anymore. Fate had granted him a chance, and he was not about to mess it up.

"Talon?"

The assassin glanced down to see Quinn looking at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

"What's wrong? You've been staring at the ceiling for a while." she whispered.

Talon brushed away several strands of her hair that had lay across her eyes. "It's nothing. I was just thinking. It's late, go back to sleep."

The scout nuzzled his neck as she settled back down against him. She lay quietly against him for a few moments, her hands tracing the contours of his chest.

"Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if we went separate paths?"

Talon frowned at her question. It wasn't like her to ask questions about the past. Besides the fact that they had always made him uncomfortable, it was uncharacteristic of Quinn to ask questions about their relationships. They had their hardships, but they had always moved past the difficult points of their relationship. It was what helped them to become what they were now.

He scooted over to wrap his arms around her.

"Wouldn't really want to think about it that way without your pretty face," he said, giving her a smug look, "But I suppose I would have just returned to Noxus. The mansion wouldn't take care of itself after all. With Katarina living in Demacia someone would need to help look after Cassiopeia as well."

Quinn sat still, breathing his scent in as she pondered his response. She knew that he had been, and most likely still was, loyal to the Du Couteau patriarch, though she had never realized that his loyalties were that deep.

"Wouldn't you have….found someone else?"

Talon chuckled against her soft hair.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I suppose that's something we'll never know for sure. Maybe I just would have been another dirty street rat for the rest of my life. I doubt I would have found another calling. The streets of Noxus don't have a lot of opportunities besides fighting and stealing. But now…" He trailed his hands slowly down to the small swell that begun to take root at the abdomen of the Demacian Ranger. The ranger's hands clasped over his as it came to a rest upon the small bump. "…But now, I have another purpose and what I do know for sure is that I don't want to look back. I've got something protect now and I won't regret the decisions I made."

Quinn looked at him, surprised at his strangely tender confession.

"Talon…."

The assassin gave her a knowing smirk as he tucked her against him snug beneath the covers.

"It's late little bird. Get some sleep."

* * *

 _Hope you guys got the references unlike a certain Talon Quinn writer :^)._

 _If you guys enjoyed, leave a review to let me know what I did well or didn't well!_

 _Until next time,_

 _-C. Geng_


End file.
